


History

by kinsale_42



Series: McHanzo [6]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Affection, Desire, Emotional Intimacy, Established Relationship, Looking for Answers, M/M, References to historical McReyes, confronting the past, intimate but not graphic love scene, learning to be open again
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-25
Updated: 2018-11-25
Packaged: 2019-08-29 00:12:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16733331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kinsale_42/pseuds/kinsale_42
Summary: Hanzo is finally starting to believe that Jesse actually likes him for who he is when Jack asks them to come lend a hand on a little side project in Egypt. Suddenly all the things Jesse hasn't been able to tell Hanzo about his past become extremely relevant, and explaining now will risk everything.





	1. Home

The gallery was very peaceful on a Tuesday afternoon, and Hanzo relished the quiet. He looked over at Jesse, still concerned that this was boring his companion to tears. He replayed their conversation over coffee in his mind, testing every nuance of speech, every recollection of facial expression, and still wasn’t entirely sure.

“So what are you thinkin’ for today, love? Weather’s not looking so great for that trip into the mountains.”

Hanzo had peered into his coffee cup like there were answers waiting for him there. He knew what he wanted to do but couldn’t imagine that Jesse would be interested. “Hmmm.” He stalled for time. Looking up, he found Jesse watching him, open and relaxed. “There is a thing…” Hanzo began, then shut himself down. “You would not enjoy it.”

“Hanzo. Tell me. If there’s something you want to do, let’s do it. If you’d like it, I would be happy to go along.” Jesse almost laughed to himself. Hanzo really didn’t understand that seeing him excited about something was one of the most attractive things in the world to Jesse. And it was still such a rare event.

Hanzo swallowed another sip of coffee. “There is an exhibition at the art museum. Ukiyo-e paintings. I know it is quite cliché of me to want to see them, but I do.” There, it was done. He’d said it, and now it was up to Jesse to decide. He waited for the inevitable rejection of his idea.

Jesse smiled. “That sounds like a good day to me. A little Japanese culture, and then a nice dinner somewhere quiet…Guessing you’d want to hit the gym this morning if we’re not doing the hike?”

Hanzo confirmed the supposition, surprised that his idea had been met with favor. It must have shown in his face.

“Don’t look so shocked, Han. I haven’t exactly been insulated from the finer things, there’s just not a lot of time or money for them in this life I’ve chosen.” Jesse leaned forward to rest his chin in his hand, a sparkle in his eye. “Savin’ the world’s a lot of work, you know.”

And so they were here, in the velvety silence of the ukiyo-e exhibit. Jesse appeared to be as interested in the paintings as any other museum patron, carefully reading all the tags, giving each work a moment or two of his attention. Hanzo was actually having far more trouble focusing than he’d expected, more taken with his companion than the art--the way his coppery-brown hair curled over his black collar, how his tongue kept poking out through his lips where he’d normally have a cigar tucked, the incredible length of his eyelashes and how the skin around his eyes crinkled up when he examined a painting--he was entrancing.

Then Hanzo saw the picture that transported him immediately, as if something had reached out and taken hold of his soul and cast him across the ocean directly to Hanamura. It was a simple scene, a courtyard enclosed by stone-bottomed buildings, steady gray rain falling on a few figures with umbrellas and raincoats. It was home, and Hanzo could feel it, smell the rain on the stones, hear the water pattering down around him.

Jesse could tell by the look on Hanzo’s face that his partner had been caught by the image before them. He wasn’t scrutinizing the technique or the colors, he was somewhere else entirely. It gave Jesse the chance to study his lover openly, in one of the rare moments when his guard was completely down. The rigid mask of control had fallen away from Hanzo’s face, the muscles around his eyes and mouth softening, his lips parting just slightly. It made Jesse want to kiss him, to run his fingertips across his skin. Without realizing it, he leaned in a little closer, imagining he could feel the heat rising from Hanzo’s throat. His movement broke his companion’s thrall.

Hanzo looked up into Jesse’s eyes, blinking as he refocused on the present. “It is very like my home,” he said, in his quietest voice.

Jesse finally gave some attention to the artwork, understanding how important home was in his companion’s mind. He was trying to place himself within the scene when he was surprised to feel Hanzo’s pinky finger curl around his. He automatically folded his own finger closed to strengthen and affirm the link. It was a powerful gesture from a man who refused all public displays of affection, at least while sober. Even in a world that had greater struggles at hand than policing human relationships, in a city that had a favorable reputation for benevolence towards all kinds of people, Hanzo remained self-contained and non-demonstrative. This was the closest they’d ever gotten to holding hands with strangers around, and even this tiny act was enough to warm Jesse straight through.

They stood together and stared at the image on the wall, Jesse trying to feel some small fraction of what Hanzo felt when he looked at the picture, and Hanzo reaching for his anchor to the present while staring at a representation of his past, reminding himself that now was better than then, no matter where he was. When Genji had said he was afraid of living, he was right. Hanzo didn’t know how to imagine a future of his own making, especially one that might give him joy. But this man beside him had his own tortured and mysterious past, and somehow found a way forward. It was some act of providence, then, that their paths had joined when they had.

*

“That was really nice,” Jesse said as they settled into the back corner table of the ramen shop. “Thank you for taking me.”

Hanzo's expression remained neutral. “You are being kind.” He looked at the menu he was handed even though he knew what he would order.

“I'm not. I mean, I’m not going out of my way to be kind. I really liked it.” Jesse sighed. “Really.” It made him sad when Hanzo got like this, but some days there was nothing to be done about it. Well, he could think of a few things, but it’d have to wait until they got home.

The waiter came and took their order, and they were left alone again. Hanzo was still avoiding Jesse's eye.

“Hanzo.” Jesse saw him glance up before returning to the straightening of the objects on the table. “I'm really sorry. I wish I could tell you all about the places I've been and the things I've seen and studied, the interesting people I've met… But so much of my life has been spent under secrecy acts and walled off behind security clearances. I'm not actually sure anymore if my life even belongs to me.”

This, at last, seemed to break through Hanzo's loop of negative self-talk. He looked up, his hands falling still. “I have trusted that you will share whatever you care to tell me when you are ready and able to do so.”

“Yeah, but you deserve better. How can you ever really get to know me if my history is a blank? It's not fair to you and it makes me feel like I am hiding something from you. Hiding myself. ” Jesse felt Hanzo's knee bump his under the table, but then it didn't move away. Instead, Hanzo tucked his calf around Jesse's, creating a solid line of contact between them.

“You are a good man. That is all I need to know.”

Jesse tried to smile. “You'll never really know, though, will you?”

Hanzo laughed, a short dry bark of a chuckle. “I am the last person who can judge a man by his past. I see who you are now, and that is enough. People who know you respect you, without fear, and you treat even those you do not know with generosity. It is everything.”

The waiter approached with their food and drink, derailing any argument Jesse might have been about to make. Instead he leaned his leg into the connection Hanzo had established, letting his body say what his mouth couldn’t. They let the seriousness go for a bit, instead talking about their plans for getting out into the mountains, and the good ramen and even better cocktails warmed them as the autumn evening fell to darkness outside.

Their empty bowls had been cleared away and they were finishing their drinks when the waiter brought a flask of sake and three small cups. “The gentleman at the bar sends his regards,” he murmured, and slipped away. Jesse and Hanzo turned together to see an unexpected visitor advancing on their table.

“Hello, cousin. And faithful gunslinger.” There was a glint in his eye and a sly smile on his face as the well-dressed Shimada greeted them.

“Isamu-san,” Hanzo replied, immediately on his guard as his cousin pulled out a chair and joined them.

“Well, now,” said Jesse, unwilling to remain silent this time. “To what do we owe the pleasure?”

“Please, will you join me in a drink first?” Isamu raised a cup, watching as they each picked up one in turn. They drank, the wine slightly sweet on the tongue. Isamu poured out another round, then reached into his jacket and pulled out a long envelope and handed it to Hanzo.

“I thought you might prefer that I hand-deliver this. The last message I left at your home was so impersonal.”

Hanzo opened the envelope and removed the single sheet of thick, high-quality paper inside. There was silence around the table as he unfolded the document and read over its contents. Isamu knocked back another cupful of sake, then poured out another refill. Jesse’s eyes stayed on Hanzo’s face, reading the subtle changes of expression. It was not long before Hanzo finished reading and replaced the sheet of paper in the envelope, laying it carefully on the table before lifting his sake cup and draining it.

“You signed your name to this. Why?” Hanzo was still wary, even as the document that pledged his safety sat before him.

Isamu leaned back in his chair. “Because if the brother you tried to kill could vouch for you, so could I. You have not changed so much since we were boys, Hanzo. I still remember the times you stood between me and the cruelty of the village children. You always had a strong sense of honor, and if Genji still believes in it, so do I.” He downed another sake. “We are blood, after all, and there are far too few of us left that are truly Shimada.”

“Hmpf,” grunted Hanzo. Then he relaxed slightly. “Thank you.”

Jesse sensed that the level of trust around the table had gone up a notch or two, and decided to use the opportunity to his advantage. He directed his attention to Isamu. “Can I ask one question?”

“I cannot promise an answer, but by all means, ask,” replied Hanzo’s cousin.

“Those playing cards you left at Hanzo’s place, where did you get them?”

“Ah! My father gave them to me to deliver. I know no more than that.”

Jesse’s brow furrowed briefly, then he asked another question. “Was there a whole pack, or just those two cards?”

“I only saw the two.” Isamu’s head tilted slightly. “I assumed they had some significance, but I was not given any information about them.”

Jesse sighed. It was a long shot, but he’d hoped there might be some clue to be found here. “Thanks anyway,” he said.

Isamu looked at him thoughtfully for a moment. “There is something I can tell you.” He saw the alertness level of his companions increase significantly as he considered his next words. “It was a contract hit, and my cousin was not the primary target.”

Hanzo bristled, and Jesse felt the pressure against his calf intensify. “And now that you have failed the first attempt? You distract me with an agreement to ensure my own safety while furthering a plan to kill my lover?”

Isamu was unable to suppress a small laugh. “Relax. Your cowboy may still be in danger, but not from our clan. We canceled the contract. It was not in our best interest to fulfill our obligations to the client.” He took another swallow of sake and his gaze returned to Jesse. “And I cannot know a man if I kill him first. I would like to know what sort of man could capture my cousin.”

Jesse appeared unaffected by the scrutiny, but exchanged a glance with Hanzo. “I reckon that will take a long time and a lot of sake, friend.” He downed a second cupful of the mild-flavored wine.

“There will be plenty of time and plenty of sake in the future, I am sure, Jesse McCree. For now, I will leave you to enjoy your evening.” Isamu smiled briefly, and excused himself from their table, pausing to speak with the bartender before exiting the restaurant.

Hanzo emptied the last small portion of sake out of the serving flask and swiftly downed it. He didn’t know what to make of his cousin’s disclosure. It was so hard to trust anyone, and especially difficult to trust his family. And to make matters worse, he was still feeling the adrenaline that had shot through him at the perceived threat to Jesse. He signaled for the waiter and spoke to him in Japanese.

There was a mildly questioning look on Jesse’s face, but Hanzo did not speak until after the waiter had returned with a bottle and two fresh glasses. He showed the bottle to Hanzo, who nodded in approval after reading the label, then poured out a liberal serving in each glass before clearing away the sake service and other unneeded glassware. The waiter left the bottle.

Hanzo raised his glass. “Shochu,” he said. “Stronger than sake, not as strong as your whiskey.” Then he drained half his portion. He let out a long sigh as the warmth of the alcohol raced along his nerves. “I asked for it in my native language because they seem to bring out the better stuff when I do.”

Jesse nodded, and drank some from his glass. “You okay? It hasn’t been all that long since…” He stopped speaking as Hanzo raised his hand.

“I am fine. Just a little...I think you would say ‘riled up’?”

Jesse couldn’t help but smile at how carefully Hanzo pronounced the uncharacteristic phrase. He swirled the liquid around in his glass and drank some more. It was pretty good, its flavor light and smooth. “This stuff’s decent. It’s been a while since I had any.”

The conversation with Hanzo’s cousin was already fading from the foreground as Jesse once more became enchanted by the way Hanzo’s face shifted as he relaxed. The mask of restraint he regularly wore only became obvious as it fell away, as his lips softened and the tension along his jaw uncoiled. Hanzo’s leg shifted as his situational awareness grew more muted, drifting away from Jesse’s, leaving a cold gap between them. Jesse leaned a little closer over the corner of the table.

“We should finish up this stuff and get back home, don’t you think?” He propped his chin on the palm of his mechanical hand. Jesse wanted to get Hanzo properly riled up, in all the best ways.

Hanzo poured them another round, filling their glasses and emptying the bottle. “Yes,” he agreed.


	2. Language

They had barely got in the door, their coats and Jesse’s hat hung up, shoes kicked off, before Jesse had Hanzo pushed against the wall, his hands firmly pinning Hanzo’s biceps as he bent his head and pressed his lips against the pulse that throbbed in Hanzo’s neck. Hanzo moaned softly and tipped up his chin, giving Jesse even more access to the sensitive skin above his clavicle, and Jesse took full advantage. He rubbed his cheek against the corner of Hanzo’s jaw. “I’ve wanted to touch you like this all damn day, lover,” he said in a dark, low voice.

Jesse slid his hands up to Hanzo’s shoulders and pressed their bodies together. He could feel Hanzo’s heartbeat thudding against him, the heat of their bodies increasing rapidly. Leaning back slightly, he met Hanzo’s warm, soft lips with his own hungry mouth. It only fueled his need. He felt Hanzo’s hands gliding up the sides of his torso and across his shoulder blades, digging into his muscles and pulling him closer.

They broke for a moment, breathless, and Hanzo somehow managed to speak. “Jesse, I do not know why, but it feels right to be with you, to touch you...wherever we are...I am better when you are next to me.”

A wave of emotion washed over Jesse and it translated physically into sheer passion. His skin tingled with it. He opened his mouth to reply, but his head was spinning and words did not come. The moment of hesitation was all Hanzo needed to turn the tables, forcing Jesse back against the wall on the other side of the entry hallway. Jesse groaned at the deliciousness of the impact, and his body responded with a heated urgency to Hanzo's demanding kisses and the sensation of his hands caressing Jesse's chest and abdomen.

“Hanzo…” Jesse's voice was barely more than a moan. He had to catch his breath before he could continue. He took Hanzo's face in his hands, focusing on the gleam of his eyes in the dark room. “There are few things more beautiful to me than watching you doing something you take pleasure in--art, calligraphy, making the damn coffee in the morning, whatever. If you got excited about ladybugs or moon rocks I’d take you to find them. If you wanted to play the french horn I would sit and listen to you practice. We get so few chances to get lost in something good in this life of ours…” Jesse trailed off, unable to resist kissing Hanzo's open mouth.

When they parted a moment later, Hanzo asked, “You really find me that interesting?” His fingers found the buttons of Jesse’s shirt and began to unfasten them. Jesse pushed off of the wall and began moving the pair of them out into the living room.

“Yeah, I do. There's some kind of magic that happens when you're so focused on something that you forget yourself. It, uh, really gets the blood flowing.” He smiled, then shivered as first Hanzo's hands and then Hanzo's lips found his bare skin.

Hanzo altered their slow trajectory towards the bedroom to grab a box out of the cabinet that contained his art supplies. He set the box down on the coffee table and turned on the holo-fire. By the glow of the electric flame, he selected an object from the box. It was only when he took Jesse's hand and began to write on it that Jesse realized it was a pen.

“Ao,” Hanzo said. “Blue.” He turned Jesse's hand over and inscribed two more characters on his palm. “Aka. Red.”

Jesse's heart was pounding in his ears, and he wasn't quite sure why this was so exciting. The brush tip of the pen tickled, sure, but there was something deeper here. Hanzo drew more characters on his wrist, saying them out loud as he did so, though without translation, then kissed him softly.

“Wait here,” Hanzo instructed and then vanished into the bedroom. He returned, his arms full of pillows and down comforter, before Jesse had time to do anything more than admire the lines on his hand in the firelight. Hanzo spread out the comforter in front of the fire and scattered the pillows across it. He sat, his knees folded beneath him, and pulled Jesse down to join him.

“Jesse,” Hanzo began. “What do you think…” He paused, unsure. “May I write on your body?”

Jesse nodded. He took off his shirt. “How do you want me, pumpkin?” The sense that something mystical was happening hadn't faded. Hanzo's fingertips drifted across Jesse's torso as he decided the approach to take.

“Turn around. I will start with your back.”

Jesse turned away from the holo-fire so that the light and warmth of it was on his back. He felt Hanzo's lips between his shoulder blades and then the cool wetness of the brush pen touched his skin as Hanzo began to write. It was such a gentle, teasing sensation, and with Hanzo’s soft voice in his ear, speaking the Japanese as he wrote it, Jesse was almost hypnotized.

Hanzo worked quickly, scribing bits of remembered poetry over his lover's body and tracing the lines of his scars in ink. In a matter of minutes, his back and the backs of his upper arms were covered with neat characters.

“Hmmm,” Hanzo said. “You will need to remove your pants.”

Jesse stood up and began to unbuckle his belt. The bulge in his underwear became obvious as he pushed the restrictive denim of his jeans down over his hips, but he shamelessly continued to disrobe, revealing every inch of skin and his enthusiastically engorged cock. Hanzo was tempted to abandon his game, feeling his own arousal step up a level at the sight of Jesse’s excitement, but he'd already thought of things he wanted to mark upon his lover's body.

“I reckon it'd only be fair if you joined me in this state of undress,” Jesse said, with mock seriousness. Hanzo inclined his head in acknowledgement, then got to his feet to strip himself. He did it carefully, somehow able to achieve a level of grace that Jesse found enviable, even in his state of moderate inebriation. Hanzo was nearly hard himself now, and his breath hitched in surprise as Jesse reached over to stroke the soft skin of his awakening penis.

“Not yet,” he said as he half-unwillingly pushed Jesse's hand away. “Let me finish. Lie down.”

Jesse grinned, but got back down on the floor and draped himself over a couple of pillows as Hanzo got behind him and nudged his thighs apart. The soft brushing of the markers began again, and the quiet words being spoken as they were written. Jesse felt the writing work its way down over the fuzzy curve of his right buttock, tickling across the back of his thigh to the back of his knee before returning to his waist and traveling an adjacent path, and another. Then the trail began down the inside of his left thigh, teasingly close to the sensitive stretch of skin between his legs.

When he reached the outside of Jesse’s left knee, Hanzo capped his pen and sat back on his heels. His eyes traced the curves and angles of his lover’s body as it was lined in gold by holographic flame and accented in the black and blue and green and red ink of his writing. He stroked Jesse’s calves softly, giving the ink an additional minute to dry.

“You may turn over now, Jesse.” He patted Jesse’s butt gently and moved out of the way. Jesse shifted himself, careful as he could manage so as to not smear anything. He was really looking forward to seeing the result and he didn’t want to ruin it before it was done. Hanzo leaned over him to help him adjust a pillow behind his head, and this time he wasn’t startled when Jesse’s hand smoothed over the skin of his hip. He lingered, bending down to brush his lips across Jesse’s before he refocused his attention on his art. The longer he delayed, the longer it would be before they could move on to more energetic activities.

Now that Jesse could watch as he worked, Hanzo became a little bit nervous, a little bit shy, but he knew what he wanted to write. He began at Jesse's right shoulder, working to fill the bare skin. Jesse's eyes were on his face, watching his lips as he murmured the lines of text. Before he was halfway across Jesse’s chest, the trembling of Hanzo's hand had vanished, and every so often he bent to touch his lips to warm skin before he wrote on it. Jesse's eyebrows shot up in delight when he heard Hanzo begin to sing under his breath. The kisses, the featherlight whisper of the brush pens, and  the surprisingly tuneful accompaniment of his lover's voice combined with the urges Jesse always felt when he saw Hanzo come out of his shell and he had to exert all his restraint to keep from bringing an abrupt end to what was proving to be quite a magical experience.

Hanzo was working his way down Jesse's thighs when he said, without looking up, “You are doing very well at remaining still.” He ran his finger delicately up Jesse's inner thigh.

Jesse let out a strangled groan as he fought his body's instinctive responses. He couldn't miss the smile that spread across Hanzo's face. “I'm glad you're enjoying this,” Jesse wheezed.

The only reply he got was a somewhat evil grin and the feeling of a pen inscribing kanji on the inside of his leg, beginning very close to the line where his thighs met. Jesse felt his skin get hotter and he tried to breathe deeply to control himself, but now even the faintest touch was beginning to make him dizzy. His cock was getting harder, and when Hanzo's lips met the base of it, he nearly jumped out of his skin. He was not surprised one bit when he felt the moist rasp of the pen along his shaft, but it nearly killed him to not respond. Tears squeezed out of the corners of his eyes.

Hanzo was nearly done; there was just one more spot he wanted to claim. He held himself just inches above Jesse's body, propping himself up with his left arm as he pressed his lips to his lover's neck, then carefully, neatly, he wrote the last few characters he wished to write. Then he lifted himself away from Jesse's transformed body. “It is done,” he said. He held out his hand to help Jesse up from the floor, then led him in to where the full length mirror hung on the closet door.

Jesse flicked the light switch, and when his eyes adjusted to the brightness, he gasped. The colors, the accents of his battle scars, the neat columns of text that covered him from neck to elbow to knee, even through the silky hair that ran from his chest down the center of his abdomen…he had been turned into art. His heart was still thumping and his dick was still standing out from his body, and he was dying to take care of that problem, but first he needed a record of this.

“Han, love, take pictures, please.”

“What?” Hanzo was genuinely taken aback.

Jesse's eyes met Hanzo's in the mirror. “I want to be able to look at this later. Right now there's something a bit more pressing, if you catch my meaning.” He smiled, and his gaze wandered over his partner's nude reflection.

Hanzo was back just a moment later with his phone in hand, using its built-in camera to record his work. As soon as it appeared he was finished, Jesse turned off the lights again and removed the device from Hanzo's hand, tossing it on the dresser before they tumbled laughing to the bed. At last, Jesse could let his hands and mouth wander Hanzo's body, extracting all the moans and sighs of pleasure from his lover that he'd had to suppress himself for the last hour.

“That just about made me lose my mind, love,” he whispered in Hanzo's ear as he rubbed his fingertips along the cleft between Hanzo's legs.

Hanzo let his thighs fall open as Jesse swiftly prepared him, and then Jesse's weight was over him, his body pressing inside him, and all the words of love he had written on Jesse's body came tumbling from his mouth once more. It did not take long for the building wave of ecstasy to take Jesse to the crest, then rush over him, leaving him shuddering in paroxysms of bliss. Hanzo held his lover tight as he came, repeating his name like a mantra as Jesse drifted back down to earth.

When reality coalesced around him once more, Jesse pulled back, and with little discussion but many kisses, they changed positions. Soon Hanzo’s hands were at his hips, steadying him against the measured thrusts that reverberated through every over-tuned nerve in his body. He fought against exhaustion and rapture to remain on his hands and knees and not give in to the overwhelming desire to collapse on the bed beneath Hanzo, the one tiny part of his brain that was still rational reminding him that he was sweaty and covered in ink and he didn’t want it all to rub off on the sheets.

The pressure was building in Hanzo’s body as he was hypnotized by the way the writing on Jesse’s back rippled and danced in the near-darkness with the flexing of his muscles beneath the skin. Jesse dropped to his elbows, both his real and prosthetic fingers twisting in the sheets. Hanzo reacted to the shift by leaning forward over his partner’s back and wrapping one arm around his chest to hold them together as his rhythm began to falter.

“Jesse,” he groaned as the flames of pleasure threatened to consume him. “You are so beautiful.” And then his perception collapsed to a single point before exploding cataclysmically.

It took a little while for Hanzo to even think about moving, but he forced himself to. Jesse was still carrying his weight. He stood up, then had to steady himself when he found his balance was less than perfect.

“Jesse.” Hanzo pulled his partner to his feet.

Jesse immediately wrapped himself around Hanzo. “Hmm?” he replied.

“Shower,” said Hanzo into Jesse's neck.

“Mkay.” Jesse was still slightly giddy, but followed obediently as Hanzo led him into the bathroom.

Jesse detached his prosthesis, then leaned against the wall, watching Hanzo as he adjusted the lighting to the lowest level and turned on the hot water. “You never told me… What is all the writing?”

“Scraps of poetry, half-remembered song lyrics, things I don't know how to tell you in English.” Hanzo double-checked the temperature of the water, then pushed Jesse into it before joining him.

The water streamed down over their bodies, and clouds of steam rose around them. “Baby, you're too good to me,” Jesse crooned as he draped his arms over Hanzo's shoulders. Hanzo reached for the soap and began washing them both as well as he could manage without disentangling himself from Jesse

For a moment, he felt like none of what was happening was real. His hands still slid over Jesse's wet and soap-slick skin, but it seemed like it was some kind of fever dream. How had he made it here? This man was too kind, too good-looking, too desirable to be here with someone like him. To love him. Then his mind shifted back into the present, to the reality of the situation. Hanzo pushed Jesse away just far enough that he could get the soap between them

Jesse was kissing his neck and ear and face as Hanzo cleaned the ink and sweat off his chest, and as Hanzo's hands moved lower to the more sensitive parts, Jesse's lips found Hanzo's. Hanzo fought to focus as Jesse's tongue slipped into his mouth, gently teasing and stroking his own

From experience, Hanzo knew that if he wasn't quick about cleaning Jesse up, they would end up trying for a second round against the wall of the shower. It was a tempting thought. His fingers slid between Jesse's legs, soaping up all the tender places that needed washing. Jesse gasped against his lips. Hanzo's hand moved away, but Jesse could still feel the heat pumping through his veins.  


Having cleaned all the parts of their bodies in most need of cleaning, Hanzo gave in to the kissing. His arms circled Jesse in a loose embrace. He didn't really want to escalate the situation, but he was enjoying the continued intimacy.

Meanwhile, the parts of Jesse’s brain he'd managed to switch off during the intensity of their passion were beginning to come back online. The kiss dwindled, and he buried his face against the wet skin of his lover's neck. He didn't deserve this. Hanzo was too wonderful, loved him too much. Jesse was just a renegade with a target on his back, absorbing affection like a sponge whenever it was offered.

“Jesse.” Hanzo's voice was warm, but tired. “Rinse yourself.”

Somehow, he managed. And later, in the hastily reassembled bed, with Hanzo curled around him, he reminded himself that it didn't really matter what he deserved. All he could do was appreciate what he had while it lasted.

*

Jesse's eyes opened to the darkness. He didn't feel like he had actually slept, but Hanzo's body had shifted away from him, so he must have lost some time to oblivion. He listened to his lover's quiet breathing and tried to relax back into slumber.

It didn't work. Tendrils of agitation spiraled through his limbs until finally he had to get up. He couldn't stay still, but he didn't dare thrash about with Hanzo still peacefully asleep beside him. Carefully Jesse slipped out from under the duvet, tucking Hanzo's outstretched arm down into the warm space he was vacating.

He padded barefoot to the dresser to get a t-shirt. As he pulled one on over his head, the glint of Hanzo's mobile phone caught his eye. Jesse picked it up and carried into the living room to put it on the charger, but before he made it that far, he remembered the pictures. He hesitated, not wanting to invade Hanzo's privacy, but really wanting to see the pictures. He made a deal with himself. If the device was locked, he wouldn't try to force it, but if it wasn't locked… Jesse pressed the button and the phone lit up in his hand. It displayed the home screen immediately, no entry code or fingerprint required.

Jesse sat down in the chair next to the charger and selected the icon that looked like a photograph, and it opened the photo gallery. And there he was, in full color, ribbons of kanji disguising his nakedness. He swiped through the snapshots; Hanzo had taken five. He almost didn't recognize himself. He was as transfixed by the images as he had been watching the work being created. Then he came to himself again, and knowing he shouldn't be looking at Hanzo's phone, he switched it off and set it in the charger, picking up his own instead.

Jesse sat and looked at his phone for a moment, a blank rectangle of inorganic materials, lifeless except for the tiny blinking light in one corner. He sighed, and unlocked the device to see what the notification was.

“Dammit, Jack,” he whispered to himself and plugged in the encryption chip.

_ 12:55 am: We could use a hand in Egypt. Get back to me ASAP. _

Jesse thought for a minute. He wished he could pretend he hadn't seen the message but he knew the software had already relayed the fact he had to Jack's device.

_ 3:12 am: Can't you just grab one of the kids from HQ? _

He leaned over and switched on the holo-fire. No sense in getting cold if he was going to be sitting here for a while. He calculated the time zone difference between the Pacific coast and Egypt. Should be just after noon?

The green notification light flashed.

_ 3:16 am: It's not a company-sponsored event. Invitation is for you and your plus-one. _

Jesse's brow crinkled. What was Jack up to in Egypt?

_ 3:19 am: Anything more you can tell me? Might need to convince my date to attend. _

He waited, watching for the green light. It didn't take long.

_ 3:21 am: Concerns a mutual friend of ours and their current hobby. Tell your date whatever you need to. Would appreciate his objective eye. _

Shit. Shit, shit, shit. Jesse's head was spinning. Reyes was supposed to be dead. But then, Jack and Ana were supposed to be dead, too, and they clearly weren't. He'd wondered, to be sure. Little details kept popping up that made him doubtful, like with the train heist and most recently the playing cards. He could think of more than one person who could have supplied the playing cards, but Gabriel Reyes topped the list.

_ 3:27 am: I will have to get back to you. _

Jesse hit send and then realized he had one more question.

_ 3:29 am: I can tell him anything? Nothing's off limits? _

He tugged at his beard while he waited for Jack's reply. The freedom he'd wished for just a few short hours ago had suddenly become a curse. He didn't know how he could explain his former commander to Hanzo without getting into some difficult history. For both of them.

_ 3:36 am: Anything. The folks who would mind no longer have the right to complain. I will wait for your confirmation. _

Jesse stared at the message until the backlight shut off. Then he removed the encryption chip and slipped it back into its storage slot. He had the urge to throw the phone across the room as hard as he could, but instead he quietly replaced the device on the charging pad. He pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to calm the tumult inside his head. Of course he'd should have known Reyes was still alive, because there was evidence that the villainous Reaper was still active, and hadn't he pretty much understood that the two were one and the same?

He leaned back in the chair, his head falling heavily against the headrest, and all the air he'd been unconsciously holding in expelled itself in a long rush of a sigh. Fuck. Not much chance of getting back to sleep now. And still too early to do anything. He thought about going out for a smoke, but decided against it. In the end, he got up from the chair, turned off the fire, and returned to the bedroom.

Hanzo was still sleeping and Jesse stood and watched him for a minute, wishing life wasn’t so messy. Then he pulled his t-shirt off and slipped back under the duvet. As he snuggled up to his lover, settling in for a couple of hours of waiting for the sun to come up, he thought again of the images of his body on Hanzo's phone. It already felt like a lifetime ago.


	3. Egypt

The sun was dropping rapidly towards the horizon as the skimmer raced towards Giza. Hanzo held on tightly as the small craft danced and wove through the currents that rose off the desert floor. He knew Ana was a native to the country and experienced with both its landscape and its preferred modes of transport, but he still made silent prayers to his ancestors that he would make it safely to their destination and not be bounced out of the open-air craft to plunge the thirty feet to the ground. He’d survived the harrowing and surprisingly lengthy flight to get here; it would be a shame to die now.

On any other day, Jesse might have noticed Hanzo’s white knuckles and attempted to reassure him, but today his mind was far away from the desert. All the things he should have told Hanzo about Reyes were tumbling through his head faster than they were speeding across the landscape. It left him so on edge that he was grateful for the loud roar of the wind that prevented any conversation, and didn’t mind that its buffeting was powerful enough to numb the ache of dread he carried in his gut.

They shot south past the ancient pyramids and landed a scant fifteen minutes from departure at an old ruin that was little more than a couple of empty stone huts, just as the sky was turning to molten fire from the setting sun. Jack appeared from his hidden watchpoint to help them unload their gear and pack it into the half-excavated stone chamber that was their base.

“What the hell, Jack? I thought that was supposed to be an express transport from the States. It took damn near eighteen hours to get here.” Jesse tossed his hat on the nearest flat surface and took out a faded bandana to wipe the dust and grit out of his eyes.

Jack’s face was impassive. He didn’t feel like admitting that he’d deliberately misinformed Jesse. “Yeah, well, it got the job done, didn’t it?” He heard Ana snicker softly behind him as she filled a kettle with bottled water and switched it on.

Hanzo was just glad to have his feet on solid, unmoving ground again for the first time in hours. He spotted a folding chair in a corner and immediately appropriated it. He watched Ana prepare tea as Jack and Jesse started looking at maps and recon reports.

“Thank you,” Hanzo said when Ana handed him a mug, truly grateful. He could smell mint in the steam that rose to his face as he carefully took a sip, and the sweet flavor did not disappoint. Humanity slowly began to return to his travel-fatigued body.

When everyone had tea in their hands, Jack turned away from the map table and leaned back against it, his ankles crossed before him. “Thanks for joining us, Hanzo. I take it Jesse filled you in on some of the history of our little undertaking here?”

Hanzo inclined his head. “I understand that the villain we hunt is the alter ego of a former Overwatch operative, and Jesse’s former commander. I have heard rumours of his activity before; even in Hanamura we had news of the Reaper.”

Jack’s eyes flickered to Jesse’s face. Nothing seemed out of place, but he wondered. “Yes. The Reaper is former Blackwatch Commander Gabriel Reyes. Last year, Ana and I got into a skirmish with him at the Talon compound that’s just a few miles from here, and we were able to positively identify him.”

Ana interrupted him. “Jack.” She gave him a strong look, one eyebrow raised.

Jack cleared his throat. “I’ve, uh, always known. It was...intentional. When Reyes...well, when he developed a certain mutation during the SuperSoldier Enhancement Program, he was groomed for black ops.” He saw Jesse’s head tilt slightly and his brows draw together as he listened to Jack’s voice. “He suggested it as a means to infiltrate Talon. Overwatch never approved his plan.” Jack paused to moisten his lips, and when he spoke again, his voice had dropped in volume. “ _ I _ never approved his plan. I believe he went ahead with it anyway. I can’t say exactly when he started to gain credibility as a double agent, but I know it was well before he brought it up again as a possibility after Rialto.”

Hanzo heard Jesse’s swift intake of breath and turned to see his partner staring daggers at Jack. He felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise with the tension in the room.

Jack swallowed some tea automatically, not tasting it, but his throat had become so dry that he needed it. “Anyway, Hanzo, I asked for your help specifically because the three of us are somewhat compromised by our association with Reyes, and I can’t trust that even I could fire a fatal shot if it became necessary. And because you and Jesse have an understanding, we felt you were the best addition to the team.”

“I see,” replied Hanzo. “Why now? It seems to be urgent.”

Jesse set his mug down and scratched behind his ear. The movement drew Hanzo’s eye, and he saw the fading kanji on his lover’s neck. Had it really only been thirty-six hours since he had turned Jesse into a living love letter? He felt a little bit ashamed but also secretly pleased that the darker shades of ink had proved to be more persistent than he’d expected. Jesse folded his arms across his chest, every muscle in his body taut, and the kanji fell back into the shadow of the hair that curled around his ear.

Jack didn’t answer immediately, seeming to consider his answer. “There’s been recent activity on the Talon compound,” he said at last. “It’s looking like they’re going to make another attempt to take over the Anubis AI. And we’ve seen him again. Reaper. Reyes. Whatever you want to call him, I don’t care anymore. He’s here. There are some questions we need answered, above and beyond what they want with Anubis.”

“What questions?” Jesse sounded like he’d run short on patience. His voice was dark and angry, matching the strain of his body language.

Turning to Jesse, Jack returned the challenge. “Did you take that playing card?”

Jesse was only slightly derailed by the apparent non sequitur. “The jack of spades? Yes, I have it.”

“Well, we tested the other one, and found nanite residue all over it.”

Hanzo interjected. “If one of the Shimada blood touched it, as I believe happened, that would not be a surprise.”

Jack nodded at Hanzo. “Yes, I know about your family, and your enhancements. But the genetic signature of this residue matched one we had on file, and it was not Genji’s.” He looked back at Jesse. “It was Gabe’s.”   


“I reckon that’s not so impossible either, Jack. If they were my cards, he’d touched them plenty of times.” Jesse didn’t want to believe what Jack was suggesting, even though he’d already considered the possibility.

“The levels of decay indicated they were a lot more recent than that, Jesse.” Ana said gently. She felt protective of Jesse, and hated having to hurt him like this, but she and Jack had agreed that he needed to know everything up front.

Jesse’s lips parted as he prepared to argue the point, and his jaw stiffened for a moment with his resolve, then his entire body relaxed almost perceptibly. “So, you wanted me here for what? Bait?” He sounded almost casual now, uncaring.   


Hanzo watched as Jack and Ana exchanged glances.

Jack’s mouth opened and closed again before he could make up his mind what to say. He hadn’t thought this would be so difficult, but apparently he was losing his touch with spin control. Maybe it was just that he didn’t care so much anymore. He sighed. “Basically. You draw him and Ana and I will spring the trap. And Hanzo, well, he’s insurance. In case something goes wrong.”

“He wants me dead, but it’s okay because if he kills me, Hanzo will kill him? Ever thought of how this might affect  _ us _ , Jack?”

“You have a better idea?”

They stared at each other for a long minute. No one dared speak.   


Finally Jesse caved. “So what’s the plan, then?”


	4. Oasis

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When it was discovered that I unintentionally reused some plot points from this scene, I had to decide what to save and what to rework, and I like my new version much better, so I have pulled the ending of this tale for rewrites. My apologies if you're new to the collection and your reading has been interrupted. I promise the new version will be up soon.
> 
> ~Kins, 6/11/19
> 
> I think I finally have the solution for this story, and a four-day weekend to get some work done on it. SOON.  
> 7/2/19
> 
> Retcon complete. Sorry for any confusion or inconvenience, and I hope you enjoy the result. <3 7/6/19

The night was cool and still as Jesse tiptoed around the poorly-lit corner of the low stone building that marked the entrance to the underground operations center where the Anubis Project had gone so horribly wrong. The complex was still shut down, with Helix Security only providing a skeleton crew to guard the premises. They weren't doing a particularly outstanding job, considering there were four intruders inside the high brick wall of the compound already, and at least two more were expected to arrive at any moment, but it had occurred to him that perhaps that was by design.  


There was a sizzling sound and a shimmer of violet light at the edge of Jesse’s field of vision, and it made him stumble slightly. He cringed inwardly as his spurs jingled at the sudden movement, wishing Jack hadn't insisted he leave them unmuffled. His eyes were scanning the once-again dim and silent courtyard around him, trying to locate the source of the strange phenomenon he was starting to doubt he'd witnessed, when the shadows around him coalesced into a solid form, and he was thrust forcefully back against the building. The hand on his chest sent some kind of shockwave through his body, knocking his gun from his hand as easily as the wall behind him pushed his hat from his head.  


Jesse fought to inhale against the pressure on his ribcage, and found himself staring into a bone white mask in the shape of an animal's skull, faintly luminous even in the shadow of a dark hood. He could feel the air move across his face as his assailant let out a breath. The situation reminded him entirely too much of one night, years ago, when he'd had the stupid idea of hitting on his boss.  


“I was hoping tonight would be fun,” a gravelly voice said. “And here I've found one of my favorite old toys.” The masked face leaned closer, and the gloved hand slid up to Jesse's throat as he felt something cold and hard press up under the edge of his chest armor. He was pretty sure it was the barrel of a gun. The unlit cigar he held in the corner of his mouth trembled briefly, then fell to the ground unheeded.

“I do make an effort to be entertaining,” Jesse managed. He felt paralyzed, trapped not so much by hand and the gun as by all the memories that were welling up within him. All that time he had spent hoping he could somehow touch Reyes’ soul, and now it was painfully clear that he hadn't. It seemed like the only thing he’d achieved was a target on his back.

“The Shrike and the Vigilante brought in the Outlaw for backup, eh? All for little old me?”

The Reaper's finger stroked the side of Jesse’s neck, the sharpened claw-like tip scratching his skin, leaving a bloody, stinging line in its wake. Then his head tilted like a bird's as he noticed something. The kanji on Jesse's neck was just visible.  


“What's this, McCree? Finally got around to fucking Genji? Took you long enough.” The Reaper’s fingers tightened their hold, making it even more difficult for Jesse to breathe. He fumbled ineffectually at the hand that held him prisoner.  


“No, not Genji,” Jesse choked out, with unintentional emphasis on the last word. He was starting to feel dizzy. He was supposed to distract Reyes for as long as possible, but he wasn't going to survive for long at this rate. Ten years ago, he would have been unstoppably aroused by this situation, and somewhere in the haze of oxygen deprivation he was glad he wasn’t having that reaction now. “Is that why you want me dead, Reyes? Heard I was having a good time without you?”  


The Reaper ignored his taunt, following his own line of thought instead. “The brother? Really? You do have bad taste in men, Jesse.” His name was a hiss. “Men who would destroy their brothers, their closest allies, they really get to you, don't they? Men like  _ me _ . But I bet he doesn't fuck you half as good as I did.”

Jesse gasped for air, fighting to answer before the darkness took him. “...at least…he has a heart…he loves me…”

The sound of a footstep made the Reaper snap his head to the right, and he found himself staring down an arrow aimed at his face.  


Hanzo's eyes widened as he saw the mask inside the dark hood. “I remember you,” he said, his voice barely more than a whisper. “I thought it was a dream, but it was no dream, was it? I saw you in Shimada Castle...” He couldn't bring himself to finish the thought.  


The Reaper laughed, a hollow sound in the empty courtyard. “Are you sure it wasn’t just a nightmare? You imagined you killed your brother, after all.” There was a dark pleasure in Reyes’ voice, as though the words themselves were delicious.  


Hanzo's eyes were aflame as he loosed his arrow, but in the fraction of a second it took to travel the distance between the bow and his target, the Reaper had vanished, a fading wisp of smoke the only sign of his presence. Hanzo's jaw dropped as the arrow clattered harmlessly to the ground on the far side of the courtyard, then, swearing, he rushed to where Jesse had crumpled to the ground.  


Jesse was unconscious but still breathing. Hanzo tried to arrange his limbs into a less uncomfortable position, and crouched by his side, waiting for Jack or Ana to arrive on the scene. His eyes constantly scanned their surroundings, unwilling to be surprised again by the sudden appearance of the enemy. But there was no sound, no movement in the darkness, until Jack’s swift steps echoed through the night.

 

*

 

Jesse woke suddenly to a dimly lit room. His fingers flew to his neck, where the mark of another hand still ached, even as he was warmed by the glow of a biotic canister positioned near his narrow cot. The hum of the canister and the soft tapping of computer keys were the only sounds in the quiet chamber. Jesse turned his head to see Ana working at the keyboard, a wave of despair washing over him as his brain presented him with too many details of his encounter with Reyes. He sat up, swinging his feet to the dusty floor.

Ana turned when she heard him move. “Ah, you’re awake again. Very good. How’s your head?”

“Pounding. How long was I out?” His voice sounded scratchy to his own ears, and the inside of his throat felt raw and swollen. He automatically shifted into his normal businesslike attitude, attempting to be more concerned about the job than the deeper implications of the situation.

“About an hour. I’m sure you would have been awake sooner, but I sedated you to give your brain a better chance to recover from the lack of oxygen.” Ana smiled innocently. That was one reason she had sedated him.  


The biotic canister made a gentle ticking sound and fizzled out. Jesse looked around the room. “Where are the others?” he asked, rubbing his forehead.

“Jack is just outside, on watch. Hanzo is… I believe he’s up in my sniper lookout.” Hanzo had said very little on the trip back to the camp. He had made sure that Jesse was safe without any overt display of emotion, and then vanished up to the one spot where he would be most difficult to approach. Ana recognized the signs. Hanzo needed time to process, and once she and Jack had reviewed the voice recordings from Jesse’s body mic, she could guess at a few reasons why. She respected that, and she wondered if Jesse would too. They were very different men.

Jesse’s fingers went back to his throat. The skin was so sensitive he was sure he was bruised. And to think, there had been a time when he had wanted Gabe to treat him this way, to leave him marked and sore. He felt a prickle of shame creep up the back of his neck. How quickly he’d forgotten how their arrangement had fallen apart. That was the best way he could figure to describe it; it had never really been a relationship. He’d been bewitched, and for a while every crumb Gabe tossed his way had been like an eight-course dinner, until eventually it was clearly just smoke and mirrors, and the torment had begun to overshadow the pleasure. By the time Blackwatch had been compromised on the Rialto job, Jesse’s disillusionment with Gabe had been so real it was like razor blades against his skin, a million tiny cuts with every breath. But now that agony had faded and he only felt like he hadn’t been smart enough, hadn’t tried hard enough. And he’d made a mistake to let himself become vulnerable in the first place, every encounter compounding the damage.

There was a sound at the door, and Jack stepped inside. He glanced at Jesse but his attention did not linger.

“Ana. What’s the report?”

“My source indicates that a breach did take place. They’re still trying to assess the extent of it. It clearly was not a remote attack. And it wasn’t Reaper, because we had eyes and ears on him during the breach.”

Jesse cleared his throat, a more painful act than he had anticipated. “What happened after I passed out?” Jack and Ana both looked at him, and then at each other. Ana nodded slightly at some unspoken question.

“Do you want to hear the recording? We’re not quite sure when you lost consciousness.” Jack scrubbed at the stubble on his chin. It was the closest Jesse had ever seen him to uncomfortable, and he had to assume it was because of what Gabe had said to him.  


“Yeah, I want to hear it.”

Ana tapped at the keyboard and then sat back as the sound of Jesse’s spurs jingling filled the room. Jesse kept his face neutral as he listened to the confrontation, and he noticed that Jack was doing the same. Then he heard Hanzo’s voice and it was like a knife to the gut. Jesse had already succumbed to insensibility by the time Hanzo had arrived, and hearing his voice now--full of the quiet distress that hinted at so much more turmoil within--destroyed Jesse.  


Then there was a sound like someone dropping a sack of potatoes, and a sharp word that Jesse recognized as a curse from Hanzo. After another moment that was only the sound of rustling fabric, Ana switched off the recording. Jesse looked up from where his gaze had drifted as he listened.

“Well, I guess I didn’t miss too much. What happened to Reyes, then?”

Jack answered. “Hanzo shot an arrow at him and he vanished. To be honest...I’m not really sure we can ever catch him unless he wants to be caught.” He sighed, defeated. “The best we can hope for is to counter his attacks and make his life difficult. Until he’s done with his game, I suppose.”

Jesse almost laughed. “Well, at least you’ve found something to keep you busy in retirement.” He leaned forward on his knees, fighting back the growing sense of anguish. How would he explain to Hanzo what it all meant? “So to recap, we didn’t stop the hacking, didn’t catch Reyes or get any information out of him except that he still wants me dead, and now Hanzo realizes he’s tied up in this just like the rest of us.”

“You didn’t tell him about Genji?” Ana spoke without judgment, but Jesse heard it anyway. He was already mad at himself for not being more open, even if she wasn’t.

“No, I didn’t. You know how it is. You spend so many years perfecting the art of not telling anyone any more than they absolutely need to know, just enough to get them to do what you want, and then it becomes next to impossible to willingly volunteer information. I guess I'll have to figure out how.” Jesse sighed.

Jack’s mouth twisted up in a grimace as he agreed with Jesse. “Hanzo deserves to know.”

“What do I deserve to know?”  


They all looked to where Hanzo stood in the doorway, the desert sky slowly beginning to brighten behind him. Jesse got to his feet, trying to ignore the renewed throbbing in his head. He took Hanzo’s arm and led him back outside.

When they reached the edge of the ruin, where they could see the pyramids to the north gradually taking shape out of the darkness, Jesse stopped, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “You probably have some questions for me. I know I didn’t tell you everything about Reyes, and I feel bad about that. I didn’t know how to. I’m sorry. If you’ve got questions, you’re welcome to ask.” He gazed out over the desert, unable to meet Hanzo’s eye.

There was a long silence, broken only by the sound of birds chirping in the dawn. Then Hanzo drew a breath to speak. “You were...lovers?”

Jesse scuffed the toe of his boot in the dust. “If you could even call it that. He certainly didn’t love me in any recognizable meanin’ of the word. We fucked occasionally, and I...there was a long time when I woulda done anything for him, because I was young and stupid.” His drawl hit hard, as it usually did when his energy was directed more at containing his emotion than controlling his speech.

He stole a peek at Hanzo’s face, stony in the grey light, and decided to continue. “By the time Genji joined Blackwatch, our...affair? Whatever. I was just about done with Reyes by then. And he used to make jokes about me and Genji...I think he was tryin’ to say I’d sleep with anybody. That’s never been true. And I’ve never had that kind of thing goin’ with your brother. In fact, for a long time I didn’t trust him very much at all, ‘cause he was so volatile.”

“How could you...He is a  _ monster _ .” Hanzo placed heavy emphasis on the last word. “Reyes...Reaper...He is like death itself, and you  _ cared _ for him? Is that the sort of man you find attractive? Do you...” Hanzo almost choked on the thought. “Do you think  _ I  _ am a monster?”

“No, of course I don’t.” Jesse swallowed, a muscle in his cheek twitching with the strain. “He wasn’t always like that. He was hard, demanding, but when I knew him he was still fair and still on our side. At least, I thought he was. And you, you’re not like him at all. Honest, Han, when I was with him, it all felt kinda wrong, like a bad idea, a self-inflicted wound. With you, well, I don’t know how to explain so you’ll get it, but with you I feel  _ right _ . I don’t understand it sometimes, but you’re solid, you’re real, and when it hits me that I’m with you, I feel like I’m alive. Everything I’ve ever told you about how I feel about you is the god’s honest truth.”

Then Hanzo asked the hardest question of all. “How can I trust you?” His mind was a tangle, the control he’d fought for since they’d returned to the ruins slipping through his fingers like the sand beneath their feet. He forced himself to focus on the distant pyramids, now turning rose-colored in the sunrise.

Jesse looked at the man standing next to him, so close and so far away, the little intimate connections they had made just a few dozen hours before fading like the ink on his skin.  _ This is the inflection point _ , he thought.  _ This is where we decide whether we continue forward together or separately.  _ He knew he would prefer to be with Hanzo, but not if he only caused his lover pain. Jesse wouldn’t wish that fate on anyone, having lived it for too long himself.

“Hanzo, what Genji told me...” he began, but he was interrupted.

“I cannot think. Please excuse me.” And with that Hanzo was off across the hilltop and climbing a precarious stack of old stones.

Jesse started to follow him, passing the doorway where Ana watched from the shadows. “Jesse,” she said, and he turned, startled. “Let him go.”

“But I need to tell him…”   


“He will listen when he is ready. Let him be.” Ana reached out for Jesse’s arm as he started to move again towards Hanzo’s perch. “I have seen others like this, Jesse. Trust me, you will do yourself no favors by distressing him further.”  


“Ana, I think I know him pretty well,” Jesse replied, and tried to pull away, but her grip was stronger than he anticipated. He felt a little pinch in the skin of his upper arm, and suddenly everything went fuzzy. Ana slipped her arms through his armpits as he sagged to the ground and dragged him into their hideout.

“What did you do, hit him with a sleep dart?” Jack asked when he saw them. He got up and helped lift Jesse back up onto his cot.

“Yes.” She tucked Jesse’s arms in at his sides. “Sometimes he needs a little push in the right direction. Hanzo is like a cat, I think. When he is overwhelmed, he withdraws until he re-establishes his equilibrium. Jesse would do well to understand this. Until then, a little nap will not hurt.”

 

*

 

The air was chilly just after dawn, and Hanzo was almost glad for it. It helped to numb the roiling in his head and his stomach. He was torn. He’d thought that maybe he could love again, maybe he could open himself up a bit again. And now that he’d had his first few breaths of free air the world was threatening to drag him back to the prison of his past. Panic threatened to overtake him as he frantically tried to think of something to relieve the pressure of his mind. None of his coping mechanisms were available to him here. All he could do was sit on this stone, in the cold morning, and breathe.

Hanzo watched the pyramids turn golden in the sunlight, and then the sun found his perch and its warmth began to sink into his skin. He rubbed his thumb along the side of his index finger and tried to focus on the sensation. Thoughts were still doing loops in his head but they weren’t quite as loud as they had been. He remembered what it had felt like to write on Jesse’s body, to feel the softness of his skin through the tips of his markers. Was this worth saving? The things Jesse had told him about his past, perhaps they could be verified. For so long Hanzo had accepted Jesse on almost no knowledge at all, why was knowing things now so much worse? He’d never expected to know, no, he never  _ wanted _ to know about Jesse’s past lovers. Therefore, it should be acceptable for Jesse to keep some things private. And if he was truthful about what he did share, then there was no fault to be laid at his door.

Again, Hanzo came back to Hanamura. To the shame that saturated his memories of home. He wanted to be angry at someone else for a change, to blame someone else for what happened, and for once he felt like he could almost do it. But no matter what this Commander Reyes had apparently done behind the scenes, it had been Hanzo who had taken a blade to his brother’s body and tried to destroy him. There would never be any doubt. There would never be any way to go back, to change things.  


He wanted to sleep. It had been a long night, and Hanzo was exhausted. But he wasn’t ready to enter the tiny stronghold in the ruins below. He wasn’t ready to face Jesse. He waited, and as the desert air began to warm around him, he had to fight to stay awake.

Jesse was just shaking off the effects of Ana’s sleep dart when Hanzo stepped through the stone doorway once more. Their eyes met, both of them a little uncertain about what to expect from the other. Ana and Jack carefully pretended not to notice anything amiss.  


“What did Genji tell you about me?” Hanzo asked, without preamble.

Jesse’s lips curved into a soft smile. “He said I’d like you.” And Jesse remembered saying something about how he sounded like an asshole, and why would Genji think he’d like an asshole, to which Genji had replied, “You like your Commander Reyes, do you not?” And Jesse had been unable to argue. He figured that this time it was safe enough not to share the whole story with Hanzo.  


“He said I’d like you, and after a while, I was pretty curious about whether or not he was right. Turns out he was.” Jesse swallowed. “Question is, do you still like me?”

Hanzo thought for a moment. “I know that I cannot change who I am or what I have done. How could I ask any more of you?” He fell silent. Time seemed to stretch. At last, Hanzo took a breath to speak again. “I cannot see what you would gain by lying. And as I have already inscribed my vows upon your person, I shall honor them.”

Before Jesse knew what was happening, Hanzo was sitting beside him on the narrow cot. And, forgetting that they had an audience, or in spite of it, he took Jesse’s head in both his hands and kissed him. 


End file.
